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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297482">Kintsugi</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlackenedThorne'>BlackenedThorne (BlueThorne)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Injury, Just vague mentions. I'm boring., M/M, No Smut, POV First Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:55:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297482</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlackenedThorne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>During a fight with a notably-venomous demon, Nero steps in to take a hit for Vergil, but both men are far too stubborn to admit why it happened or why Nero's steps are starting to falter on the way home. </p>
<p>Gift for DMC Secret Santa 2020 on Tumblr.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kintsugi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for @SteaMiLKy on Twitter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I don’t care if you’re going to throw your life away for someone, but at the very least you should pick someone more reasonable than me. I can easily heal from most wounds that would leave you dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t-!” Despite how long he’d spent keeping himself from voicing his pain, Nero hissed air between his teeth. His steps just behind me dragged on his left, and I could hear the way his breath stopped short every time he placed weight on that side. But he kept pace with me. Stubborn as ever, he was undoubtedly mine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t doing it for you,” he managed through trembling breaths, forced slow. “You just happened to be in the way. And your healing isn’t that much better than mine. Get over yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We were lucky that night had fallen. The sight of Nero in daylight would have gotten the police called on us yet again. Though a few of the streetlamps flickered with a dull, buzzing light, few people came across us, and none bothered to pay attention. The stench of alcohol on them was almost as strong as the sharp smell of blood at my back. Last I’d looked at him, the dark red stain had coated much of his side. He so rarely allowed himself any injury against the feral demons we faced that I usually only saw his blood under a mark from my teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’d had to stop myself from correcting that error after he’d been locked in the snake’s maw. Only I should have been the one to leave a mark. Only I should have tasted his blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the demon’s venom was potent enough that even Nero couldn’t hide when the wind had been knocked out of him. I needed to let him rest before I could prove my ownership again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goddamn, we need another car,” Nero snarled as the neon glow of Dante’s so-called shop came into view. “Getting real sick of walking back and forth to these jobs just because Dante… out of town… is always… because…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His words dripped and slurred from his mouth like honey, sickly sweet. In my younger years, I’d felt the bite of those demons before more than once. The venom certainly slowed me down and forced me to rest until it worked its way out of my veins, but it never left me pale, shivering and struggling to stand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nero’s eyes were so heavy that I doubted he saw me move toward him as his legs gave out. I wasn’t sure why I bothered. So many times I’d left Dante to smack his face to the ground, a punishment for his own foolish decisions. But I caught Nero in my arms before his knees could even brush the sidewalk. Still-warm blood soaked through my sleeve, and I could feel the fever burning from his face as it came to rest against my chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His healing was far weaker than mine, no matter what he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could still tell it wasn’t enough to kill him. That much was apparent from his demonic powers searing through him to fight the damage. The air around him burned like coals, and the silvery blue lights of his Trigger began to take shape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was nothing to him. He would be fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, I still gathered him up in my arms. Despite his size, he seemed to fit well in my grasp. Some part of my mind said that I was meant to hold him, a ridiculous thought that I put to an end immediately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though his eyes were slits and his whole body buzzed with a constant shiver, Nero attempted to grumble some form of disagreement with the situation. His hand, now donning claws, pushed against my chest with all the force of a kitten batting at a toy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid, boy,” I said, unsure if he could hear me. “You don’t want to be left out on this disgusting street. I told you I could have handled that attack myself. You needn’t have interfered. Look what it’s done to you. I’ll at least stop you from making another stupid decision tonight.” Even if he couldn’t hear me, he must have felt my hands holding him tighter against his incoherent protests because he gave up with a low, irritated growl and relaxed in my grasp. His sweat-slicked brow came to rest against the side of my neck and tucked neatly under my chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I used the toe of my boot to kick the front door in and the heel to shut it behind me. The wood crackled its protests. I would make Dante glue it back together when it inevitably broke apart again. For now, I needed to tend to Nero. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, no, I did not need to. I could have left him on the worn-out couch, and he would have been healed by morning. Carrying him upstairs to his room was a pointless waste of time. He did not need me, just as I hadn’t needed him to shield me from that attack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet there I was, just as foolish.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I lowered him into the bed like placing a fragile teacup back in its saucer. His breath strained at the movement, but as soon as I had him settled, it eased to its ragged pace once again. He tried to open his eyes against the glassy haze of fever covering them. Beneath it, I could see that his gaze held the cold edge of demonic instinct, a defense against uncertain surroundings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re alright,” I said, placing the back of my hand to his cheek. “You’re home. Nothing will harm you here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Part of him must have understood because his eyelids fell heavy again, and he leaned into my touch. He may have just been trying to sap my warmth. I could feel his teeth chattering behind my knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His coat wouldn’t do him much good then, not when so much of it was filthy and soaked in blood. For that matter, his shirt had to go. It was no better than trash at that point. His pants as well, and I couldn’t allow him to wear his boots in bed. At that point, it just made the most sense to strip him entirely. He would be much warmer that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made no attempt to stop me, perhaps not noticing that it was happening at all, or maybe he was just used to me tearing his clothes off. It was far from the first time. Once I had him stripped, I could see the black stain infecting his side. The venom spread out from the puncture wound like a spider’s web spun from ink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing it there sickened me, but it wasn’t a feeling of disgust writhing in my guts. Instead, It was a dull ache in my chest. I pulled the blankets over him so I wouldn’t have to see it anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as the blankets were in his claws, he shifted and wriggled himself into a cocoon, but his shivering continued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on,” I said like it mattered. I was gone for no more than a few seconds, returning with the blanket from my own bed in my hands. As I started to drape it over him, his eyes fluttered open once again. He raised his chin to sniff the air before turning his head and nuzzling his face into my blanket with slow, deep breaths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes you’re such a human, and sometimes you’re such a demon,” I muttered. “Or do humans also do that?” Hard to say. I didn’t have much experience with them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked so small under all the blankets, even as his skin turned to the blue-green shade of his true form and his hair grew down into his face. I brushed it back behind his ears for him. His whole body was fighting so hard, using every inch of his power against the venom despite how weak it made him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was tough. Certainly mine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As I started to pull my hand back, his appeared from the cavern of blankets and grabbed hold of me. “S’cold,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My brows shot up. “So you are somewhat coherent then. I suppose you’ll be fine then to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a tired hum, he pulled my hand back to his cheek. “You’re warm.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did not blush. That was not something that could happen, and it did not, even if I did huff and glance away from him. He’d never wanted me close, not like that at least. When we were close, it was always a bloody haze of teeth and claws commanded by lust. We were never anything soft or gentle, and that was how things should have been. We were demons. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, as I let my clothes fall to the floor, I felt no urge to tear into him or mark him as mine. Even in his feverish state, he knew that already. A purr bloomed from his chest as I crawled in beside him and let his burning skin meld with mine. Being with him under all those blankets was sweltering, but somehow I was content just to be there, to hold him and listen to the last fragments of pain fade from his breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable. Perhaps I never had. The way he fit against me made it impossible to push back the voice in my head assuring me he was made to match me. He filled in every gap of mine, every broken piece. We fit together to make something whole again. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kintsugi is that Japanese art where you repair broken pottery with gold because I am a disgusting weeb.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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